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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23775646">Puncture Wound</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/philophrosynae/pseuds/philophrosynae'>philophrosynae</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Horror, M/M, Romance, Southern Gothic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:13:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,004</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23775646</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/philophrosynae/pseuds/philophrosynae</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred invites his crush over for a late night dinner.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>America/Russia (Hetalia)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Puncture Wound</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alfred had a favorite gas station attendant. He didn’t know the man’s name, but he was tall with a strong jawline and the lingering hint of an accent that curled around his consonants. A voice that sounded refreshingly cool against Alfred’s warm molasses-poured drawl. It was his gently rolled r’s that had first made Alfred swoon. His slightly crooked smile had only made things worse.</p>
<p>He saw him three times a week when he drove his old but well-loved truck from his quiet farmhouse to the nearest city almost two hours away. The trips were essential for supplies that weren’t worth having delivered and affordable Spanish lessons at the local community college. Alfred had proudly told his friend his plans to obtain an associate degree and transfer to the big name university further down the highway. He kept the copies of the guaranteed admission agreement from his transfer counselor in the glove compartment of his truck for motivation. Sometimes he needed the reminder on the long late night drives home. </p>
<p>The tall man had smiled behind the counter as Alfred chattered about his dreams with accompanying wild hand gestures. His gas station was at about the midway-point between Alfred’s home and the city. Alfred was fortunate that they ran into each other during the late hours of the night when few other customers were present. It meant that he could linger longer by the counter.</p>
<p>There was a problem, however. Alfred still didn’t know the man’s name. His routine had been going on for a few weeks and Alfred had made it to the awkward point in a relationship where it was just too embarrassing to ask. In his opinion, it was half the other man’s fault for never volunteering the information or wearing a name tag. It was also his fault for being a virtual unknown to the few neighbors that Alfred had down the road. No matter who he asked, no one seemed to know much about the tall foreigner. Most said something along the lines of, “<em>Oh, I think I saw him once. He’s probably just one of those guys that lives in the mountains.” </em></p>
<p>But embarrassing or no, Alfred was going to ask the other man his name. It would be a bit difficult to ask someone out on a date if he didn’t know what to call them. That was what he planned to do tonight. He had even practiced his script in front of his bathroom mirror a few times. His foot had bounced nervously under his desk all through class and he had nearly jammed his thumb attempting to get his truck key into the ignition. Now he was almost to his destination along the familiar empty highway that was lit more by starlight than by other cars. Sometimes Alfred went miles before he saw another vehicle pass by going the opposite direction.</p>
<p>A familiar blue and white sign illuminated by his headlamps flickered by on his right, indicating to drivers that food and gas were only 10 miles away. Alfred pulled in a stuttered breath and forced himself to loosen his grip on the steering wheel. His knuckles felt stiff and he could tell they had gone white from tension. His palms felt sweaty.</p>
<p>“Gross,” Alfred said to himself.</p>
<p>He was beginning to wish that he had spent the money to fix his radio so he would at least have some distraction. The old thing had fizzled out about a year ago and he hadn’t gotten around to getting it fixed. Alfred wrinkled his nose and swallowed the lump in his throat. Truth be told, it had been a while since he had asked anyone out on a date. The last time had been for his senior prom. His date was an old friend who said <em> yes </em> as a favor, but even she had an idea that Alfred really wasn’t into girls. </p>
<p>And that was another reason to be nervous. Alfred had never asked out a guy before. He stared blankly at the double solid line painted on the road along his path. Coming out in a small conservative town was complicated, to say the least, so he hadn’t been public about it. Alfred had hoped for an opportunity once he started college, but nothing had happened. His attempt at online dating had been equally unsuccessful. He also had no idea if his handsome friend even liked men. There were hints he hoped he was picking up on correctly, lingering smiles and brushes of fingers when Alfred collected his change, but for all Alfred knew the other man was just being polite to the awkward blond who barged into his store three times a week.</p>
<p>He was going to ask him to dinner and a movie. Stargazing had been his first choice, but had seemed too intimate for a first date. Alfred blushed in the darkness of his car. Plus, he could more easily pass off a movie date as a “going to an action movie with a friend” sort of thing if it turned other the other man was straight. If he <em> wasn’t </em> straight, Alfred could make him dinner at home so they could skip the only tacky diner in town. The thought of running into one of his family’s friends while on a date was something he didn’t want to imagine. Alfred shuddered involuntarily. </p>
<p>A second familiar blue sign flickered by announcing "<em>rest stop: next exit. </em>” Habitually, he flicked the lever for his turn indicator, telling the empty road that he was merging right. Sometimes he saw truckers on the road at night but they tended to stop at the larger rest area that was past his town. The only time he saw heavy traffic was on Sunday nights as students headed back to campus and early Friday nights when people left work early to lengthen their weekends. Every other time of the week, Alfred just appreciated the quiet. </p>
<p>It wasn’t that he didn’t like bigger towns or even cities, his senior class had gone to New York for a trip and he had loved it, but the quiet familiarity of the rambling hills, blue-tinted mountains, and aging farmland settled comfortably in his mind as <em> home </em>.</p>
<p>Only two other cars were in the parking lot when Alfred pulled up to his usual pump.  One small black sedan was always there so Alfred had assumed it belonged to his crush. The shiny new truck beside it likely belonged to the couple standing inside by the beer coolers. Alfred peered at them through the window as he hopped out of the driver’s seat, greeted by the crisp Fall air and the familiar smell of gasoline. He shivered under the artificial lighting as his stiff fingers fumbled with the gas cap and lever. His gloves and faded leather jacket were spread out along the backseat of his truck. Normally he wore them but tonight he was being stubborn. Alfred had worn his nice red plaid flannel shirt, the one he had heard brought out the blue in his eyes. As much as he loved his grandfather’s hand-me-down jacket, it just didn’t match.</p>
<p>He watched the couple inside the store as the gas indicator and price both ticked merrily upwards. They were still lingering where he had first seen them, the man and the woman both talking with their hands as they argued over what overpriced convenience store six pack to buy. Alfred didn’t recognize them from town, but they seemed local enough based on their clothes. They looked to be in their mid forties and the man had the familiar broad shoulders of someone who did manual labor for a living. The woman was wearing red lipstick with her faded purple hoodie and was waving a can of Pringles like a weapon.</p>
<p>“Leave. Leave. Please leave. It’s nothing personal but just <em> leave, </em>” Alfred mumbled to himself. His breath puffed out in small white clouds in front of him that quickly dissipated into the cold.</p>
<p>He really didn’t want two complete strangers to witness him embarrassing himself. Alfred shuffled awkwardly in place to stall for time, his boots crunching against the fine gravel that had trailed in from the road. As much as he wanted to, he wouldn’t let himself look up towards the cashier counter. He was nervous enough without seeing his friend’s face. The gas pump beside him gave a final definitive <em> tick </em>as his tank reached full. He looked back towards the beer coolers, the man had given up and snatched the Yuengling his wife favored and was marching towards the counter.</p>
<p>“Thank <em> God </em>.”</p>
<p>Alfred pulled his receipt out of the machine in a hurried jerking motion and jammed the gas nozzle back into its cradle, dropping his keys onto the pavement in his rush. He felt his ears burning as he prayed his crush wasn’t watching him out the window. If Alfred was going for “calm, cool and collected,” he had clearly missed his mark. </p>
<p>He clambered back into the driver’s seat to move his truck into a parking space. Normally he parked right in front, but tonight for luck he parked a little further back beside the familiar black car. Somehow, it seemed like the most sensible thing to do. </p>
<p>By the time he had finished, taking two attempts to get his vehicle in straight, the couple was almost done at the counter. Alfred allowed himself a quick glance to confirm his crush was there for the night. He was, frowning down his nose at the dented can of Pringles the woman was still clutching. Alfred’s anxious heartbeat caught in this throat as he rubbed his palms on his jeans, took a deep breath, and walked inside. </p>
<p>A small brass bell attached to the door announced his arrival and his cashier’s eyes flicked up in warm recognition before returning to the customers in front of him.</p>
<p>“Credit or debit?” he asked the couple.</p>
<p>“Um, de—”</p>
<p>“Credit,” the woman interjected. </p>
<p>Alfred snorted. He pretended to browse the narrow aisles as their first card was declined. </p>
<p>“Do you have another card or alternate—”</p>
<p>His friend’s eyes narrowed as it was his turn to be cut off by the wife.</p>
<p>“Did you cut up the wrong card <em> again </em>? We just got the new ones in the mail.”</p>
<p>“We did?”</p>
<p>“<em>Yes! </em>”</p>
<p>“Oh. Whoops? D’you have yours?”</p>
<p>Tired of staring at off-brand candy bars that he was almost certain no one ever bought, Alfred grabbed his usual bag of chocolate covered pretzels and walked slowly up to the counter, stepping firmly against the tiles so the couple would hear his boots and realize they were holding up the line. He looked at his phone as they swiped the right card and gathered their things. He must have driven faster than usual, it was only a quarter to ten.</p>
<p>“Have a nice night,” his friend said in monotone as the couple jostled each other on their way out the door.</p>
<p>Alfred felt his blush heating up the back of his neck as he stumbled up to the counter. </p>
<p>“Um, hey. Evenin’!”</p>
<p>“Hello again,” the other man smiled at Alfred and held out his hand for the pretzels. “How was class?  You’re early tonight.”</p>
<p>Alfred passed the slighted crinkled package to him and wondered if he should have gotten something more interesting.  He wasn’t sure what would be considered interesting in a gas station but--</p>
<p>
  <em> Ask his name. Ask his name. Ask his name! </em>
</p>
<p>“Y-yeah. There wasn’t any traffic so I got out of town early. Class was fine.”</p>
<p>“That’s good.”</p>
<p>The cashier’s smile lingered at the corners of his lips as he moved back to sit on his stool behind the counter. He rested his elbows on the countertop and clasped his hands in front of him, waiting patiently for Alfred to fish his change out of his wallet. He knew the price and always paid in exact cash. Counting dimes and nickels had the added bonus of taking slightly longer than swiping a card, giving Alfred another excuse to linger. </p>
<p>“I’m getting better at writing but my accent still sucks when I try to speak.”</p>
<p>“Hmm,” his friend looked thoughtfully at the backs of his hands as he thought about his response. He spoke slowly and deliberately, with the cautious tone of someone who was too often misunderstood. “I would say more practice but mine is still… there and I practice.  I forget words.”</p>
<p>He finished with a small shrug and Alfred rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck. He liked the man’s accent but was worried it was a sore spot. In a small town, it was the sort of thing that stood out, and not always in a good way. Truthfully though, Alfred thought it sounded sophisticated. His own drawl sounded rough and uneducated to his ears by comparison. </p>
<p>“How many languages do you speak, anyway?” Alfred asked.</p>
<p>“Three… and a half?”</p>
<p>“Three?! And what’s the half?”</p>
<p>“English.”</p>
<p>Alfred covered his mouth to smother an embarrassing giggle. </p>
<p>“Shut up! Your English is a million times better than my Spanish and I’ve been studying for three semesters already.”</p>
<p>“Maybe you should work at a gas station where they speak Spanish. Hope for blond customer who visits. Practice.”</p>
<p>“<em>Shh </em>. You like me visiting. It’s boring without me.”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>The honest response had Alfred shuffling in place again. The toes of his dusty tan cowboy boots clunked against the counter between them. On the other side, his crush didn’t seem to have realized he had said something unusual. He collected the change from the countertop and dropped it in the register, formally finishing Alfred’s transaction. He was in his uniform, a white button down shirt that he paired with a knit scarf and dark gray sweater for the cold. The scarf changed daily but always had the look of something that was made at home with loving hands. Alfred had noticed the man tugged idly at it sometimes when he was thinking. Alfred took a deep breath.</p>
<p>“Um. So this is random…”</p>
<p>His friend leaned forward against the countertop, resting his chin in one of his hands and looking up at Alfred.</p>
<p>
  <em> Like you practiced. Just do it like you practiced. </em>
</p>
<p>“But you don’t wear a name tag. So I was wondering what your name was?”</p>
<p>His voice trailed up to a high pitched squeak at the end of his question. Not at all like he had practiced. Alfred bit at the inside of his cheek to stem the nervous ramble that threatened to spill out from his mouth.   </p>
<p>“Ivan,” his friend said calmly, the drawn out <em> I </em> adding a satisfying weight to the name.</p>
<p>Alfred repeated the name a few times in his head, committing it to memory. Ivan reached up with his free hand and patted Alfred on the cheek with a smile. Alfred’s breath caught in his lungs as he felt the other’s fingers brushing affectionately against the frame of his glasses before pulling away. </p>
<p>“Ah! That’s… I like that,” he said.</p>
<p>Ivan snorted in amusement.</p>
<p>“Wait,” Alfred said. “Did I ever tell you mine?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Oh! Dumb… Ah, oh you weren’t gonna ask?”</p>
<p>Ivan shrugged and Alfred’s heart fell.</p>
<p>“I was hoping you would pay with credit card one day so I could just read it.”</p>
<p>Alfred’s face loosened into a more relaxed smile as he laughed.</p>
<p>“Alfred. Al is fine.”</p>
<p>Ivan hummed appreciatively and muttered the name a few times to himself. The attention made Alfred shuffle anxiously in place, his hand reaching up to push his glasses further up his nose.</p>
<p>“Alfred, where is your coat?”</p>
<p>“I-I left it in the truck.”</p>
<p>His full name sounded better in Ivan’s voice than it normally did. He always thought it was too long or too formal or too old fashioned. Alfreds were kings in history books and fairy tales. Al could say “the usual” at the McDonalds drive through. But <em> Ivan </em> made <em> Alfred </em> sound right.</p>
<p>“You will catch cold. Don’t forget your coat.”</p>
<p>Alfred shrugged happily as Ivan fussed over him. He was too happy that he finally had a name for the man he had been thinking about to be worried that his plan to look handsome in his favorite shirt had backfired. The next question flowed much more easily off his tongue.</p>
<p>“Do you want to hang out after work sometime?”</p>
<p>“After work?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Alfred nodded a little too energetically, causing his hair to bounce out of place. He quickly smoothed a few loose flyaways back behind his ear. “Or before. I don’t know what your schedule is so after work might be too late. If you want! We don’t have to.”</p>
<p>“What would we do? Did you have plans?”</p>
<p>“Um,” Alfred dug his heel into the linoleum floor. “Well like dinner and a movie. Or just dinner.  Or just a movie. Or whatever, you know?”</p>
<p>“Dinner and a movie? That sounds like a date.”</p>
<p>Alfred laughed nervously as Ivan looked up at him from his seated position.  He was still holding his chin in his hand, his lips pursed in amused puzzlement. </p>
<p>“Yeah! If you’re… into that. If you’re not, it doesn’t have to be. I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t want to. Hang out I mean. But I won’t make it awkward or—”</p>
<p>“I’d like a date.”</p>
<p>Ivan sat up straighter, reaching back up to grab at Alfred’s hand where it was tugging nervously at his collar. He looped their fingers together and brought their joined hands back down to the counter. Alfred let out the breath he had forgotten he was holding. </p>
<p>“Me too,” he admitted as he looked at their hands.</p>
<p>Ivan’s fingers were warm from having been bundled in a blanket under the counter and his hand was slightly larger than Alfred’s. His grip was firm but not uncomfortably so. It was secure, if not a little possessive. Alfred was so delighted he felt like he was floating. </p>
<p>“When do you want to take me on a date?” Ivan asked, his smile back on his lips. “Tonight?”</p>
<p>“Hmm, whenever you're free is fine with me. I have class but you know that schedule so… I can be flexible. If you’re free tonight, that would work!”</p>
<p>He laughed a little too loudly but Ivan only nodded.</p>
<p>“Tonight is fine. I do not have work tomorrow. But,” he turned to glance at the clock on the wall behind him. “My shift isn’t done until eleven. That’s an hour and I think the diner closes at midnight?”</p>
<p>“I can… make dinner if that’s not too awkward? Or we could get pizza on the way.”</p>
<p>Ivan squeezed the hand he was holding as Alfred used his other to point out past the store windows.</p>
<p>“My place really isn’t that far from here. Less than an hour if there’s no one else on the road.  Then I could drive you back after dinner or you can hang out at my place and I can drive you back in the morning—”</p>
<p>He stopped and shook his head wildly before continuing in a near shout. </p>
<p>“Not that I’m—! I have a spare room!”</p>
<p>He turned back frantically to look at the other man’s reaction. Ivan’s shoulders were shaking with repressed laughter and he sunk down lower in his seat. He finally gave in with a small giggle and pressed his face down to the counter, squeezing Alfred’s hand tightly to keep him from fleeing. </p>
<p>“If I say yes to guest room, do I get breakfast too?” Ivan asked, voice muffled against the laminate. </p>
<p>“…Matty taught me how to make pancakes from scratch?”</p>
<p>“Then it’s a deal, Alfred.”</p>
<p>He brushed his lips against the back of Alfred’s hand before he sat back up. Warm tingles flickered along the back of Alfred’s neck.</p>
<p>“I keep spare clothes in my car because I hate wearing my work clothes home. This shirt is uncomfortable,” he shifted his shoulders for emphasis. “Too much cheap starch when they iron it.”</p>
<p>“Oh! Yes, okay.”</p>
<p>Alfred was still flustered from the kiss.</p>
<p>“So I’ll get my bag and go with you in your car? We sell tooth brushes. I’ll steal one from inventory. Don’t tell.”</p>
<p>“Promise.”</p>
<p>“Do you need to get anything before you cook or did you want to wait here for an hour?”</p>
<p>The bell chimed at the door, announcing another customer was entering the store. Ivan pulled his hand back from Alfred’s but kept his smile in place.</p>
<p>“I’m—I’ve got everything, I think. I can wait. Easier than driving back and forth!”</p>
<p>Ivan stood and walked to the far end of the counter, beckoning Alfred with a wave of his fingers. He followed in a giddy skip as Ivan flipped up the partition to allow Alfred behind the counter. A warm firm hand at the small of his back greeted him at the other side. He realized that Ivan was actually a few inches taller than him, the difference no longer diffused by the partition between them.</p>
<p>“This way you can sit while you wait,” Ivan’s voice said beside his ear. Alfred could feel the other man’s breath against his skin.</p>
<p>Alfred bobbed his head in a nod, self-consciously looking over his shoulder to make sure the customer wasn’t watching them. The man was ignoring them completely, engrossed in a soda-sticky hunting magazine in the corner. His brown camo hunting jacket with orange accents implied it was a full time hobby.</p>
<p>“Back here.”</p>
<p>He was steered behind the register and pushed through the swinging doors to the back room. The room was small but seemed to serve the roles of mini kitchen, break room, and meeting room judging by the various appliances and pieces of furniture crammed into the space. A window along the far wall faced out into the back woods, hinting at the depth of the dark branches not illuminated by the florescent bulbs of Ivan’s store. </p>
<p>“There is water and soda in the fridge. And coffee in the pot. I made it… an hour ago? Take what you want.”</p>
<p>“Your boss wont care?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>Alfred’s responding nervous laugh was cut off by Ivan’s hand reaching out to brush his hair out of his eyes. He looked back out the window to avoid the other man’s gaze in embarrassment.</p>
<p>“I’ll be back when he’s done. I can hear the bell and go back and forth when people come in.”</p>
<p>“You sure that’s okay?”</p>
<p>“No one will care. Beilschmidt watches Netflix in here for most of his shift anyway.”</p>
<p>Ivan waved before heading back through the swinging doors to the front of the store. Once he was out of sight, Alfred scrubbed at his face with his hands, slipping his fingers behind the lenses of his glasses to wipe his closed eyes. The other man saying yes had been too lofty of a goal for Alfred to think much beyond it. Pasta would be fine for dinner. Fast but tasty, perfect for what he needed. He had leftover meatloaf in his freezer that he could throw into the sauce to make his mom’s fake bolognese. He even had beer in his fridge for them to drink. Plus the guest room was sure to be clean since no one ever used it. He bit at his lower lip to hold back a wide grin. </p>
<p>He shuffled over to the coffee pot and found paper cups in the overhead cabinets. More searching found him some holiday themed coffee creamer to use from the fridge. Beverage complete, he held the filled cup to his face with both hands, breathing in the calming familiar scent of peppermint and chocolate. The coffee would likely keep him up all night but that was preferable to him nodding off midway through his date.</p>
<p>His <em> date! </em></p>
<p>An excited shiver worked its way up Alfred’s spine. He moved to sit down at one of the small tables, pulling out a chipped plastic chair that had likely seen better days several decades ago. </p>
<p>The room was decorated in the store’s colors, blue and white and gray. Posters of varying ages had been plastered along the walls, the older ones being covered by the newer instead of being taken down. They each advertised a promotional sale or gimmick. Near the swinging doors hung a photo of an irritated-looking blonde woman with long pigtails and glasses under a gold sign proclaiming “employee of the month!” Alfred recognized her as one of his old classmates from high school and giggled quietly at the coincidence. </p>
<p>Closer to Alfred’s seat was a tack board with the handwritten schedule pinned crookedly in the middle. Ivan’s name filled most of the night shifts. Bright reminders in block letters on colorful post it notes framed the schedule:</p>
<p>
  <em> DON’T FORGET TO TURN OFF THE COFFEE POT BEFORE YOU LEAVE!!! </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> DID YOU SLIP AND FALL? REPORT ALL INJURIES WHEN THEY HAPPEN! </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> MAKE SURE YOUR SHIFT IS COVERED BEFORE YOU TAKE A DAY OFF! </em>
</p>
<p>“<em>Eat a dick </em>” had been scribbled in pencil below the last memo. A helpful illustration had been included.</p>
<p>Alfred listened to Ivan talking on the other side of the doors, he seemed to be ringing up the man’s purchases. He was secretly pleased when Ivan didn’t let the man stay and chat, sticking to his monotone work script of “would you like your receipt?” and “have a nice night.” Alfred ate his way through his pretzels while he waited.</p>
<p>They passed the last hour of Ivan’s shift that way, with the taller man returning whenever the register drawer shut and heading back out with every chime of the bell. He left a new bit of affection behind with every exit, ruffling Alfred’s hair or pressing a casual kiss to his cheek. The gestures were welcome if not a little overwhelming for the romantically challenged Alfred. He couldn’t be described as shy, but he was out of practice and social graces had never been one of his stronger suits. He felt embarrassingly inexperienced. </p>
<p>He bit his tongue before he asked Ivan if he had ever dated another man before. He was fairly certain that would be rude and was very unwilling to be labeled the awkward virgin before they had even left the store.</p>
<p>The bell jingled one final time five minutes before Ivan’s shift was supposed to end. </p>
<p>“Braginsky!” shouted an unfamiliar male voice. “Do I need a new cash bag from the safe?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>Alfred eyed the small safe in the corner, assuming that was what the men were talking about. He stood to throw his empty coffee cup in the trash.</p>
<p>“Kay! Alice is taking over at six so she can get one then.”</p>
<p>The swinging doors flew open as a man with hair lighter than even Ivan’s barged through. He tossed his bright blue duffle bag onto the nearest table before turning with a start, apparently realizing he wasn’t the only one in the room. His sharp features and high forehead were vaguely familiar. </p>
<p>“Who’re you?” he asked Alfred but turned back towards the doors before he could reply. “Who’s this!?”</p>
<p>“My friend,” Ivan calmly called back.</p>
<p>“What? Oh! Night school guy!”</p>
<p>He pointed his finger at Alfred’s chest.</p>
<p>“He’s mentioned you. Had to pull it out of him though. Thought it was weird he was takin’ all the night shifts at once.”</p>
<p>Alfred laughed freely at the obvious hint. </p>
<p>“Al, right?” the man continued. “I think you were in the same class as my little brother.”</p>
<p>“Oh! Ludwig?” Alfred brightened as he realized why the other’s face had looked familiar. “Are you Gil?”</p>
<p>“Hell yeah I am!”</p>
<p>He stood proudly with his hands on his hips, preening under the attention. He was wearing a similar outfit to Ivan, the white button down was clearly standard issue, but he was wearing it unbuttoned over a flashy red t-shirt for style.</p>
<p>“I thought you looked familiar! You used to come watch our games, right?”</p>
<p>“Of course I did!”</p>
<p>Ivan quietly appeared behind Gilbert’s shoulder with the hint of an annoyed frown.</p>
<p>“It’s eleven. I’m leaving.”</p>
<p>“But I was making friends!”</p>
<p>“This one is mine.”</p>
<p>He walked around Gilbert, placing his hand on Alfred’s shoulder as if it belonged there. Alfred winkled his nose, certain that he was missing some sort of inside joke between the other two. </p>
<p>“Alright, alright.” Gil sighed theatrically and turned to head back out to the front of the store. “I see how it is.”</p>
<p>It was quick, but Alfred could have sworn he saw a wink from the man before he left them. </p>
<p>“Ready to go?” Ivan asked.</p>
<p>“Yeah! Did you grab your things?”</p>
<p>Ivan nodded and tilted his head towards the bags in his hand that wasn’t holding Alfred. They waved their goodbyes to Gil on their way out and he cheerily told them to have a fun night. </p>
<p>Outside, the cold night air felt like a punch to Alfred’s chest, freezing the air in his lungs. He regretted parking further away and not wearing his coat. Ivan laughed beside him and draped an arm across Alfred’s shoulders.</p>
<p>“The truck is yours?”</p>
<p>“Mhmm,” Alfred hummed with a nod.</p>
<p>He wondered if Gil was still watching them through the door and felt heat rising in his ears. Gil had been known as a bit of a loudmouth in high school, a gossip to be more specific. It was now only a matter of time before the whole town knew he had driven home with Ivan. He sighed but didn’t voice the issue.</p>
<p>Ivan was holding a small bag in his free hand, presumably carrying a toothbrush and soap that he had taken from the store, and a book bag was slung across his shoulder with his clothes. Alfred walked to the passenger door first to unlock it. His truck was old enough that the remote for keyless entry had long since stopped working. Ivan didn’t seem to mind, throwing his bags onto the backseat with a casual fluidity that made it seem as if he had been doing it for years. Alfred hurried back to his side and turned up the heater the second he was behind the wheel.</p>
<p>“You’ll wear a coat next time, yes?”</p>
<p>“Shh.”</p>
<p>Ivan laughed lightly as Alfred pulled out of the parking lot and merged back onto the highway. A still quiet settled in the cab. Alfred fidgeted in his seat as he tried to think of a way to break the silence while wondering if Ivan even wanted to talk. He snuck glances at the other man whenever he was certain he wasn’t looking. </p>
<p>He looked different in the moonlight than under the cheap store lighting. It cut along the sharp lines of his jaw and the profile of his nose. Ivan looked older, even more foreign and out of place than he normally did behind the counter. Alfred chewed idly at his lower lip as he wondered why Ivan seemed to find someone like him interesting. He frowned to himself when he bit through the skin and drew blood. Alfred pressed his tongue to the cut as he tried to get his thoughts in order. </p>
<p>Honestly, he was worried about their date. He had been truthful when he said he wasn’t expecting anything and that Ivan would be sleeping in another room… but inviting him over in the middle of the night wasn’t something he would usually consider. It was too forward, to the point of being almost tacky. There weren’t really many other options though. The movie theater was a longer drive back into the city and they would have no place to go to eat afterwards. Besides, money and time had been tight between school and fixing up his small farmhouse. He saw a highway exit sign flick by on his right past Ivan’s window. They still had a while to go.</p>
<p>There were still no other cars, the later hour making it even more likely that the road would be deserted the rest of the way home. Like the few buildings along it, its wide open lanes had been built for a purpose long since past. Now used mostly for speeding college students, it had once been the main route to the factories outside of town. When those companies had outsourced their labor and shut down, most families had left before the warehouses slowly rusted apart. Those who stayed on endured longer drives for smaller wages or stubbornly eked out a living on the old family farms.</p>
<p>“Hey, Ivan?”</p>
<p>“Yes?”</p>
<p>The man turned to Alfred, the movement pulling shadows back across his face.</p>
<p>“How long have you lived here? We get a lot more people leaving than coming, you know?”</p>
<p>“A while ago,” he shrugged. “Two years. My sister works at the university. I work to help pay rent and practice English.”</p>
<p>“Ah, that makes sense. Oh! Maybe I’ll get to meet her when I transfer?”</p>
<p>“Maybe,” Ivan smiled at him. “We moved recently. We had a less expensive place at first, but it was too big. My sister thought the attic was haunted and wanted to move.”</p>
<p>“Haunted?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” he nodded sagely. “It was just bats in the attic but they were noisy. And one of those… the word… they wear little masks… raccoons? It was an old house.”</p>
<p>“Couldn’t you get them out?” Alfred quickly turned to his friend with a laugh before looking back at the empty road ahead of him.</p>
<p>“Too much work. I told her it was ghost and we should move.”</p>
<p>Alfred laughed a little more loudly in response. He was thankful for Ivan’s company. The later hour had an odd effect on the drive. He was used to the woods along the road, broken up only by the occasional sagging barn or road sign, but their large dark branches looked more sinister than the ones he remembered climbing with his brother when they were young.   </p>
<p>“And you? Did you move here?”</p>
<p>“Nah, I grew up around here. We used to tell dumb ghost stories about the highway actually. Don’t tell your sister.”</p>
<p>“Ghost stories?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, the one about the hitchhiker. I swear every highway has the same story.”  </p>
<p>“Now you have to tell it to me,” Ivan said with a quick grin that flashed his teeth.</p>
<p>“Ugh, fine. I’m no good with scary crap though so this is going to be short and shitty.”</p>
<p>Alfred frowned at the road ahead of him as his passenger laughed by his side.</p>
<p>“I have a brother. We’re twins so we got our driver’s licenses at the same time. Annoyed the hell outta my dad when we both asked for cars at the same time,” he laughed lightly at the memory of Arthur’s flustered red face.</p>
<p>“Did you get them?”</p>
<p>“Nah. Matty got a part time job and paid cash for an old F-150 our neighbor was selling and let me share it. When he got married he took it with him so now I drive the truck dad used before he got his midlife crisis convertible.”</p>
<p>Alfred could see Ivan smile out of the corner of his eyes. The other man discretely slid his left hand over Alfred’s right where it was resting on the gear shift. When Alfred didn’t pull away, Ivan calmly threaded their fingers together with such nonchalance that it seemed natural. His fingers were slightly chilled, most likely from having been outside without gloves. Alfred’s heartbeat thudded excitedly in his ears. The other man’s grip was comfortably secure.</p>
<p>“But um…” Alfred trailed off and cleared his throat before continuing. “When Matty got the truck he normally just used it for class and work. When he started dating Kat though he would sometimes be out later.”</p>
<p>Since there was no one else on the highway, Alfred let his eyes flicker cautiously to the trees fencing in the road on both sides. The highway had been cut through an old forest, full of giant trees rich with bright leaves that Alfred had begged to use for a treehouse as a child. This time of year their vibrant greens had burned to honeyed amber and crimson in the autumn daylight. In the night, however, their colors melted out under the scant moonlight while snarled branches soaked in the darkness. Fluttering bats and calling owls had made his nights hell as a child. Even as an adult, his overactive imagination made Alfred doubly thankful for the man holding his hand. Sometimes the shapes he saw in the distance seemed to move against the wind.</p>
<p>“But when he told me the story it was only like the second or third time he’d been out with her late,” Alfred continued. “Matty dropped her off at her ma’s place in town a little after midnight and was driving back to our place. We still lived with our parents then.</p>
<p>Ivan hummed and nodded, indicating that he was still following along. He had shifted Alfred’s hand and was rubbing his thumb in gentle circles along the inside of Alfred’s wrist, teasing the sensitive skin that protected his pulse. Excited tingles were running up the inside of Alfred’s arm.</p>
<p>“I was waiting up late because I’d promised I would. Matty wasn’t that comfortable driving at night yet and dad couldn’t stay up late because he has to get up at sunrise.”</p>
<p>“That was sweet of you.”</p>
<p>“Yeah! I know it’s cheesy, but he’s not just my brother, he’s my best friend so I didn’t mind staying up. We’re close.”</p>
<p>Alfred laughed and flicked his gaze to Ivan, who returned his smile. </p>
<p>“Oh! But yeah, that night he damn near broke the door out of the frame he was in such a hurry to get inside. Scared me half to death because I was in the living room and I thought a bear was breaking in. He’s normally the quieter of the two of us, but it took me a few times to get him to talk slowly enough so I could understand him.”</p>
<p>They drove past another exit, one that Alfred recognized as meaning they had about a half hour until they got to his family’s property. Ivan was still massaging Alfred’s wrist but had let go of his hand so that he could run his cool fingers along the inside of his arm in a way that felt progressively more sensual. Alfred blinked firmly as he curled his toes in his boots.</p>
<p>“Was he alright?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but he swore he’d seen a ghost. That’s all he kept saying again and again, ‘a ghost! a ghost with long cold hands.’  He thought the thing was going to kill him.”</p>
<p>“A ghost? Do ghosts normally hurt people?”</p>
<p>“Dunno,” Alfred shrugged awkwardly as an excited shiver worked its way up his spine. “I’ve never seen one. But he swore this one was following him. I dragged him into the kitchen and made him chug a glass of water to calm down. He was white as a sheet.”</p>
<p>His brother’s hands had been shaking so terribly that he had barely been able to hold the glass without dropping it. Alfred had held the bottom of the glass with one hand to steady it as he gripped Matthew’s shoulder, hoping the contact would calm him down. He remembered his eyes focusing on an awful red claw mark across his brother’s throat, five swollen red lines, as if someone’s nails had dragged across his neck.</p>
<p>“I was scared to be honest. I’d never seen him like that. But I was also trying to keep him quiet so he wouldn’t wake up our dad. I thought at first it was just something him and Kat had done…”</p>
<p>Ivan hummed again and gently lifted Alfred’s hand to his lips, pressing another kiss to the back of his hand. Startled, Alfred’s foot lifted off the gas pedal for a second before he pressed back down too suddenly, overcorrecting the error and causing them to jolt backward into their headrests with the sudden acceleration.</p>
<p>“Shit! I’m so —”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry! Too much?” Ivan asked.</p>
<p>“N-no… It was… Ah, I just wasn’t expecting it,” Alfred laughed shyly as his face bloomed in a blush. </p>
<p>“You looked worried so I thought I should do something.”</p>
<p>Alfred turned to see Ivan wearing a slightly sheepish smile. His own blush only worsened at the sight. </p>
<p>“I’ll wait until we’re out of the car,” Ivan said with a smile. “But was your brother okay?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, just really shook up.”</p>
<p>Matthew had been driving home and had already passed the rest stop. He had turned his music up to keep himself awake and had the windows rolled down. It was the middle of summer but he didn’t feel like running the air-conditioning. Plus, the breeze was another way to keep him focused. </p>
<p>His headlights illuminated the shape of a man walking along the road ahead of him. He looked to be heading into town. Arthur had warned his boys against picking up hitchhikers, but Matthew told his brother that the guy had looked familiar. Something about his shambling walk or sloped shoulders had chimed in his memory. So, trying to be a good neighbor, Matthew slowed down his truck and hollered out the window.</p>
<p>“Hey! You okay, friend?”</p>
<p>The man looked friendly enough but fairly old, only a few years away from collecting his pension and moving to Florida. He didn’t give his name but said he was just coming back from the diner. Matthew hadn’t remembered seeing the man while he was there earlier, but figured it was most likely because he was focused on his girlfriend. The man explained his car battery was dead and his friends had tried jumping it but it was too old to get going. He didn’t have the cash for a tow so he was walking home and would go back for his car in the morning. </p>
<p>“Matty felt bad for the guy because we’ve all been there before,” Alfred continued. “Especially with our old trucks, so he unlocked the door and told him to hop in. He was afraid some drunk kid would hit him on their way home, you know?”</p>
<p>“He didn’t make him sit in the back?” Ivan asked.</p>
<p>“Nah. The man said he could sit back there but Matty said he couldn’t do that to his neighbor. Plus, he figured having someone to talk with would keep him awake. It was late and we had gotten up early that morning to help dad with the fertilizing.”</p>
<p>“That makes sense.”</p>
<p>“Yeah! I mean, I’d have done the same thing. Wouldn’t be right to make some old guy roll around in the back of your truck when you’re going 60!”</p>
<p>Ivan laughed in response.</p>
<p>Matthew and the man had exchanged stories about their families on the way. After a while, though, Matthew noticed his passenger’s stories didn’t make sense. None of the names he mentioned seemed familiar, even though he had spent his whole life in the same town. Some of the street names weren’t quite right either. The stranger was bringing up side roads that had long ago fallen into disuse as their residents had moved away. </p>
<p>“Matty says the guy stops making sense after a bit of that, just talkin’ in circles. He’s talking about his work at the factory, said his boss was all mad at him about something with the dyes, and that’s why he had been drinking with his friends at the diner.”</p>
<p>The memory of his brother’s worried face caused a shiver to run up Alfred’s spine. He felt Ivan give his hand a reassuring squeeze. </p>
<p>“But that factory shut down before we were born. Turned out they were using lead paint with the stuff they made and there was asbestos in the walls so it was cheaper to just shut down than redo the assembly lines and things.”</p>
<p>“And he said he had been working there that night?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. So my brother thinks he’s accidentally picked up a crazy. You know how people get when they get desperate. They lose their job and there’s nothing else round here so they turn to the Bible or the bottle while they wait for their asbestos checks to come in the mail. Then they get stuck while everything else goes on past ‘em.”</p>
<p>“Where do you live, sir?” Matthew had asked, interrupting the man’s angry ramble.</p>
<p>“Over yonder.”</p>
<p>He had pointed a thin arm further down the road to the right.  There were some faint lights in the distance. Matthew hoped it was the home of the man’s family so they could help sober him up. </p>
<p>“Okay! We’ll get you there right quick.”</p>
<p>Alfred kept his eyes on the road ahead of him, not looking left or right for fear of seeing a figure in the distance. </p>
<p>“So Matty keeps driving but speeds up,” Alfred continued. “He really just wants this dude out of the car. Dad didn’t give us cell phones so he can’t call me for help, but he said this guy didn’t look dangerous. He’s just got a t-shirt and jeans on, you know. You’d be able to tell if he had a gun on him. And he’s a skinny old guy so it’s not like he can hurt Matty…”</p>
<p>Matthew said the man had stopped talking about himself. The cab fell quiet and he could feel a cold sweat along the back of his neck. A part of him wanted to slam on the brakes and run, leaving the guy in the truck. Drunk or not, the man wasn’t right in the head. </p>
<p>Out of the blue the man said, “I never get past that there shed though.”</p>
<p>Matthew looked ahead to where the man was pointing, looked back at him to ask what shed he was talking about, and saw the seat beside him was empty. </p>
<p>“He was gone?” Ivan asked.</p>
<p>“Yeah! Nothing there but air. Matty says this all serious and I crack up laughing. Like, what the hell, bro! I get it, I get it. You just wanted to scare me. But Matty grabs my shoulders and says dead serious, ‘I stopped the truck.’”</p>
<p>“Why the fuck would you stop the truck?” Alfred had hissed in an angry whisper, certain that if he raised his voice any higher someone would come to investigate what the fuss was about.</p>
<p>“I couldn’t keep going! He was crazy! What if he had jumped out the window?”</p>
<p>“Without opening the door?! You probably just fell asleep while driving! You dreamed up some crazy old —”</p>
<p>“Shh!!” Matthew had slapped a hand over his twin’s mouth. “Dad’ll hear you! I didn’t fall asleep!”</p>
<p>“Then what the hell’re you talking about! Old drunks don’t just disappear!” he said against his hand. </p>
<p>Matthew slowly pulled back and pressed both of his hands against his face, knocking his glasses to the floor. Alfred flinched as they clattered against the linoleum.</p>
<p>“I saw him in the woods,” he whispered.</p>
<p>“What?!”</p>
<p>“Shut up and I’ll finish. I saw <em> something </em> in the woods. There was a person out there it looked like.”</p>
<p>Matthew shivered and Alfred closed the distance between them again to hold his shoulders. </p>
<p>“So I got to the other side of the truck and shouted at him, ‘You crazy old asshole! You jumped out?! No wonder you never get home!’”</p>
<p>He went quiet and Alfred began to panic, shaking his brother gently to urge him to continue.</p>
<p>“…But Al, that thing turned around to look at me and… it just wasn’t a person anymore… it was…” he’d taken in a shaky breath and pulled back his hands to look at Alfred. “Al, I don’t know what it was but it wasn’t right. Its skin was hanging off of it like it’d been six feet under for a while. And its hands, I’ve never seen fingers that long…”</p>
<p>“Matty, what did you do?”</p>
<p>“I tried to run but it said— it said in that old man’s voice, ‘Maybe if I take yours?’”</p>
<p>Matthew’s hands reached up to his throat and touched at the red claw marks.</p>
<p>“It reached out to grab me and pull me into the woods. I was so scared I couldn’t scream, Al. I thought this thing was gonna kill me and you’d come looking for me but there wouldn’t be anything left but that truck sitting on the side of the road…”</p>
<p>Alfred hugged him, pulling his face to his chest so he wouldn’t have to see his brother’s broken expression. He looked cautiously out the window above the kitchen sink to make sure nothing was watching them. </p>
<p>“I got so lucky,” Matthew continued. “Alice’s dad was driving back in his patrol car with his high beams on. Flashed that thing or something and it ran back into the woods.  He saw me and pulled over… I told him I felt carsick and had hopped out to puke… I didn’t tell him what happened but he made me let him follow me home in his car.”</p>
<p>“Matty, I—”</p>
<p>“Don’t tell, Al.  You can’t tell anybody.” </p>
<p>“What! If there’s some crazy thing out there in the woods people should know!”</p>
<p>“But who’s going to believe me?”</p>
<p>At that, Alfred went silent, his story done. He kept his eyes on the road as he went back to chewing at his lip, frowning as he accidentally reopened the cut with his anxious habit. </p>
<p>“He’s okay?” Ivan asked.</p>
<p>“Yeah, drives with a gun though. Just in case.”</p>
<p>“Do you?”</p>
<p>Alfred only shrugged. </p>
<p>“But I thought you said it was only a story?”</p>
<p>“We say it was. We’re not the only town with a dead hitchhiker.”</p>
<p>He chanced a glance at Ivan to see the other man was looking at him with a concerned expression. </p>
<p>“Well, I can promise I won't jump out of the window and drag you into the woods,” Ivan said with a cautious smile.</p>
<p>Alfred snorted and returned the smile.</p>
<p>“I hope not! I’m looking forward to the spaghetti I’m going to make besides.”</p>
<p>Ivan loosened his seatbelt to lean up closer to Alfred as he drove. They were almost there so Alfred focused on looking out for the familiar exit sign that meant he was home. He wondered if he should be fancy with dinner and put it in one of his grandma’s old glass serving bowls instead of serving it out of the pot. Against him, Ivan’s cool breath was tickling his throat where his collar had fallen open. </p>
<p>“Do you live with your family?” Ivan asked.</p>
<p>“Hmm, sort of. Matty moved out but he just lives down the road. Dad and Ma live in the main house. I live on the same property… but in a different house. I’m fixing up the house my grandpa built and living in it while I do that.”</p>
<p>“That’s impressive. All by yourself?”</p>
<p>“Matty comes by and helps sometimes when I need help lifting big things. Mostly though I just do it myself and pray I don’t fall off a ladder when I’m up there alone! Kat’s pregnant so I don’t want him wasting time on me.”</p>
<p>He saw his favorite exit sign and merged off the highway, telling Ivan about his failed attempt to retile his bathroom alone. Most of his stories ended with his brother coming to his rescue with a mop or a paintbrush. Ivan resumed his fingers’ gentle circles along the inside of Alfred’s wrist. </p>
<p>As they pulled up the long private road that doubled as a driveway, Alfred pointed to his various projects: a birdhouse here, a sturdy fence there. Once they reached the end of the road they could see his house. His three bedroom farmhouse had a wrap around porch with a fresh coat of white paint that looked bright even in the dim starlight. The thick trees blocked out most of the moonlight. </p>
<p>Alfred put the truck in park and heard the click of Ivan’s seatbelt being removed before he felt his cool lips against his neck.</p>
<p>“Oh!” Alfred said as he felt Ivan’s fingers at his own seatbelt, tugging it out of the lock to pull Alfred closer.</p>
<p>“I know I said I’d wait until we were out of the truck but—”</p>
<p>“It’s— it’s fine.”</p>
<p>Alfred reached out to pull the key out of the ignition. The light in the truck above the rearview mirror turned itself off and Alfred felt Ivan’s teeth against the small curve of bone at the back of his jaw.</p>
<p>“You’ll tell me if it’s too much?” Ivan asked, his words whispered against Alfred’s sensitive skin.</p>
<p>“Mhmm.”</p>
<p>He turned his face to give Ivan access to his mouth, sighing as he felt his lips against his own. Reaching out, Alfred knotted his fingers into Ivan’s scarf and leaned up into his embrace, feeling the man’s hands pressing into his lower back. </p>
<p>“You taste like the chocolates,” Ivan muttered with a small laugh. </p>
<p>Alfred was too flustered to reply and just closed his eyes. Ivan ran his tongue along his lower lip and Alfred flinched as he felt teeth against his cut, reopening it so he could taste the familiar tang of blood. His protest was cut off by Ivan’s mouth covering his, using the opening to press inside with his tongue. Alfred felt lightheaded and disoriented as he was pushed further back into his seat, barely holding onto a silent prayer that Ivan wouldn’t notice he didn’t know what he was doing. </p>
<p>The other’s tongue brushed against his own and his eyes flickered open with a start. Ivan pulled back slightly, giving Alfred enough room to breathe but keeping their mouths close. </p>
<p>“Too much?”</p>
<p>Alfred shook his head. He felt dizzy, but blamed it on the confined dark space more than Ivan’s actions. Catching his breath seemed to help.</p>
<p>“No, it’s— I liked it,” he said shyly.</p>
<p>“Did you want to eat first? I believe I was promised dinner and breakfast.”</p>
<p>Ivan smiled a little wider than before, revealing more of his teeth. Alfred was too infatuated to notice what was wrong.</p>
<p>“You were!” he exclaimed instead. </p>
<p>Then Alfred smiled brightly and invited it inside.</p>
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